


A Million Years

by GoingKnowhere



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Fix-it fic, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel, i'm fixing it i swear, little angsty, mentions of the Eugenics War, steve and jim are not the same person, steve trevor is american
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingKnowhere/pseuds/GoingKnowhere
Summary: Steve was her North Star.Still guiding her hundreds of years after…





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops! My hand slipped :p 
> 
> I promise that this is a fix-it fic! You just gotta bear with me! I finally saw Wonder Woman yesterday (and was completely blown away by how incredible it was) and I now have more confidence in posting more content for it :)
> 
> The title come from the song [A Million Years by Charlene Kaye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8_F2Nv4LZQ). A beautiful song that’s a rather good fit to this fic. Especially this first part :)
> 
> Enjoy!! ♥

_**A Million Years || Part I** _

 

Sitting down at her flat’s window seat, Diana’s gaze immediately swept upwards to the stormy night sky of Paris. Even after all these decades, she still searched the stars for answers, even when she couldn’t see them.

 

Her beautiful island had had the most spectacular views of the stars. When she was a child, she and Antiope would always lay out on the cool grass after their secret night training sessions and look up at the sky. Her aunt, so brilliant with blades and arrows, was just as incredible with the deep black sea of lights, telling Diana the story behind each and every one.

 

It was such a change, to step into Steve’s –  _man’s_  world and not be able to see the stars from just anywhere at night. After the war she would travel outside of the city and lay out in the countryside for hours on end, learning the stars and constellations of this new world.

 

And mentally dedicating different ones to different people in her life.

 

 _Corona Austrailius_  for her mother, living still on an island she could never return too.

 

 _Sagittarius_ for Antiope, lost too soon.

 

On and on with each friend she gained and lost, but Steve…

 

Steve was the North Star - _her_ North Star.

 

Still guiding her even hundreds of years after…

 

Whenever Diana needed extra input she’d sit and stare up at the bright star – Or in its general direction at least. She’d watched it enough over the years to know its exact position each night of the year. - until she felt confident in a decision.

 

Right now – as the lightning illuminated her face where she rested it upon the thin pane of glass – she called upon that guidance.

 

Tomorrow, for the first time in her life, Diana would be leaving Earth and traveling through space – to the  _Yorktown_  starbase, to be exact. She’d been invited to speak about various points in Earth’s history – being considered one of the Federation’s top historians and all that – at the small branch of Starfleet Academy on behalf of a friend. As a historian she was ecstatic, but…

 

She never felt comfortable with the thought of leaving the planet. Sure, it’d been well over a century since she last had to done her armor, but Diana always wanted to be available – just in case.

 

Lately, though, something had been nagging at her. It started as a whisper here and there, but now it was the equivalent of a permanent itch right underneath her skin.

 

_Go to space._

 

_Travel the stars._

 

_Leave._

 

_Leave._

 

_Leave._

 

The invitation was a welcome relief, but the reservation was still there.

 

And who knows if she would still be able to see her North Star - one of the few connections she had left to one of the most important men she ever met.

 

So she sat and watched, hour after hour as the storm rumbled on, until her vintage clock chimed six A.M. Only then did Diana stand and retreat further into her penthouse, a sense of solace filling her for the first time in weeks.

 

She took her time readying herself for her trip – bathing, dressing, eating, packing – before stepping out of her home. And as she stood in the noisy shuttlebay, brushing her thumb lightly over the well-worn watch around her wrist while she waited to undertake the first half of her journey, Diana couldn’t help the feeling that her Steve was still with her, just waiting to accompany her among the stars.  

 

_…to be continued_


	2. Part II

**_A Million Years || Part Two_ **

 

The only way that Diana could tell that Yorktown was a real place was simply because of the fact that there was no way she could have ever dreamt up such a place. She’d seen a lot of beautiful places over the years, but this was simply incredible. The twisting walkways, the gravity defying water features, the artificial breeze creeping through her blue sweater and black skirt, the fact that just few hundred meters above her head was a specialized forcefield that kept the vacuum of space from harming the thousands of beings inside the station. It was beyond her imagination.

 

She side-stepped around an Andorian family, grinning softly to herself at the tiny baby being carried by it’s father.

 

Many times Diana had envisioned having a family – of having tough little girls and charming little boys, but every time she’d push the fantasy away when she saw their sky blue eyes or golden hair.

 

Diana swallowed and shook her head to clear the invasive thought away, adjusting the strap her leather bag in the process. She needed to focus on her upcoming lectures; she didn’t have time to wallow in what could have been.

 

Her high heels clicked against the concrete as she continued on away from the Academy building. It was day three of her lecture series and she still had two more to give over the next four days. So far the cadets had taken quit well to her talks, asking and answering questions while they took notes on her words. While there were a few who’s rapt attention included dreamy smiles and glazed eyes that followed her about the lecture hall, most were focused on what she was telling them. At least in terms of the ones who came. Adelaide had warned her about that. Every time the Fleet’s flagship stopped by there was a drop in attendance by cadets wanting to catch a glimpse of the famed crew.

 

“Hey, watch it!”

 

The voice tore though her thoughts and she looked up just in time to avoid running into human cadet, the sharp jerk of her body causing her bag to slip from her grasp. With a sigh, Diana paused her trek to fix it and check her watch.

 

11:45 A.M. She’d planned to have her talk just in time for lunch and, as her stomach emitted a low growl, she couldn’t have timed it better.

 

She lifted her head and peered around the walkway at the nearby shops and restaurants. One of the widest walkways at Yorktown, a long reflecting pool ran along the center, framed by towering buildings, vegetation, and a series of benches. The side she was on, from what she could tell, held few options in terms of intriguing eating establishments. Turning her head, her gaze drifted over the crowd of beings walking and -

 

Her heart stuttered, body freezing as her eyes latched onto the figure seated at one of the metal benches next to the still water.

 

In dark jeans and white shoes, a green shirt and a black leather jacket, the man sat peering around with open wonder as his hands twisted a golden orb back and forth between them. Even at this distance there was no mistaking the small flash of what where the most brilliant of blue eyes and the golden hair that glinted in the artificial sunlight.

 

Stumbling forward, tears welled in her eyes as she choked out the one word – the one name – that’s haunted her for over 300 years.

 

“ _Steve.”_

 

“Steve!” 

 

Diana sucked in a breath when the voice rose up out of the crowd and _Steve_ responded, smiling and waving at the speaker as he stood to greet them. 

 

_Gods! Gods! It was him!_

 

Her heart sung at the confirmation and she couldn’t stop the sob that escaped her. She didn’t even realize that there could have been a chance that it wasn’t Steve. So long she ached and wished for another chance with him! And here he was! Her Golden Soldier! Her North Star! 

 

She watched on from afar at how her Steve almost radiated his own light as he greeted a dark haired man before -

 

Her teary eyes widened as confusion rushed through her at the sight of the other man.

 

The other golden blond.

 

_…to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted part 2 a day earlier than what I originally planned! Why? I lack self control. 
> 
> Um, oh! So Fun Fact!! This chapter was not actually the chapter I had for the second part. This part didn’t even exist until yesterday. I was going over everything and reordering the few chapters I have so far and this one came to mind. We get more of Diana in this one and we a slight clue in as to what’s going on. Part 3 will come out on Sunday ;)
> 
> And pfyre - I wanted soooooo badly to respond to your comment but I didn't dare to for fear of letting slip my plan for this fic too soon!


	3. Part III

**_A Million Years || Part Three_ **

 

Years ago, when Steve had first seen the posters about the US military looking for potential pilots, something _clicked_.

 

In that brief moment, he knew.

 

Flying.

 

Flying for his country.

 

Flying for the world.

 

That was what he was meant to do.

 

Steve turned out to be one of the few willing to learn because of the calling. A lot of the other boys joined up to impress the girls and when they were finally standing in that large grassy field before the metal contraptions those boys had open faces of doubt.

 

Their instructor and team leader, when he strutted forward from behind the closest plane, didn’t waste his time coddling anyone’s fear and gave it to them straight.

 

These machines weren’t the precious bassinets their mother’s placed them in when they were still sucking their thumbs.

 

These were high flying death traps.

 

Do not over think, just act on instinct.

 

You fuck up one thing and you could end up fucking up everything before a chance to fix it appeared.

 

By the end of the ‘pep-talk’, one thing was made clear – make your peace with death now or you’ll end up meeting her sooner rather than later.

 

So Steve did – he had. He did everything instinct, followed his gut and worked his way up the ranks as an expert flier and it worked just as well during the war in Europe.

 

He actually lost count of the number of times his act-on-instinct mentality had saved his ass.

 

But this -

 

_I can save the day._

 

Steve let out a hysterical laugh.

 

He knew when he saw that gas-stocked plane that this was it.

 

_But you can save the world._

 

He’d always thought about how it would be. Always figured that that last moment before – when the images of what could be come forward – would come with a moment of hesitation. So when the images came – waking up with Diana each morning, wiping ice cream from the tip of her nose, cradling their tiny daughter with his eyes and her face – the overwhelming sense of peace he felt caused tears to well up.  

 

_I wish we had more time._

 

Steve pulled the gun. They may be figments of his imagination, but – _right now_ – they were enough. If she was alive, they were enough.

 

_I love you._

 

He closed his eyes, right before he pulled the trigger. He could live with those fictitious memories.

 

_I love you._

 

His whole body tingled as the darkness swallowed him.

 

_I love you._

 

The bright light behind his eyelids called to him, whispered words he couldn’t decipher. And the sounds.

 

The sounds drew him forward.

 

Steve shifted and groaned, his eyes flickered open briefly before snapping closed from the brightness. There was a chill in the air, one that the thin fabrics surrounding him couldn’t stop and he felt goosebumps raise across his body. Once more he tried to open his eyes, this time getting struck with an overpowering sense of Déjà vu as his eyes tried to make sense of the large, blurry figure leaning over him. With a few more blinks, his vision cleared, revealing a broad-shouldered brunet man dressed in a blue shirt.

 

_God?_

 

Steve struggled to sit up, but the man placed a hand to his shoulder and pushed him to lie back down.

 

“Hey, easy, easy – My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy -”

 

_Wait…God’s a Southern doctor?_

 

_…to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See!!!!
> 
> I'm slowly making it better!!!!


	4. Part IV

_**A Million Years || Part Four** _

>  
> 
> _“Captain, our sensors are picking up some unusual readings from the nebula.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim looked up from his Padd and spun his chair around to face his First Officer. For the two hours that they had been studying the unstable nebula, the readings had stayed fairly consistent. To suddenly have off-the-mark readings was concerning. “What type of readings, Spock?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Spock kept reviewing the data on the screens before him. “In the past five minutes I have calculated a rapidly growing percentage in the nebula’s electrical charge. One that has lead to an increase in lightning flashes inside the cloud,” he reported, pursing his lips as he checked another reading._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair and he chewed his lip. Spock always gave exact numbers; the lack of one gave Jim a sense of foreboding. In his peripheral, he noticed the rest of his bridge crew checking their own stations. Soon he was sitting in the middle of a cacophony of voices, each detailing their own data._
> 
>  
> 
> _But it was Sulu’s voice that captured the attention of the crew._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Captain, the nebula!”_
> 
>  
> 
> _When he turned, his pilot’s focus was on the viewscreen and when he finally registered what was happening, Jim found himself cautiously rising from his chair._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Oh my god…”_
> 
>  
> 
> _What was a typical unstable nebula - with lazily floating debris and occasional flashes of lightning - was now a near constant strobing of light and stronger rotations of gas and rock._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Shields up, yellow alert,” he cautioned. His eyes flickered rapidly over the sight as the written words of an admiral long-passed came to his mind. “Weapons at the ready; Sulu, be prepared for an immediate warp out. Everyone else, keep an eye on your stations; I want to stay on top of the situation in case -”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Captain!” Uhura cut him off._
> 
>  
> 
> _He whirled around to face her. “What is it?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _The look of pure distress she gave him had his worry deepening and her words latched onto his need to protect his crew._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Something’s activated the transporter.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Uhura, who’s_ _stationed there_ _?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _No one;_ _not at this moment._ _”_
> 
>  
> 
> _That wasn’t good._
> 
>  
> 
> _He tried to keep his calm “Is it a glitch in the system?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She shook her head._
> 
>  
> 
> _Shit! “Red alert!” He ordered, flipping open his comm. “Kirk to Hendorff.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Hendorff here, what’s going on?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Something’s going on with the nebula and the transporter was just activated. Gather a team and meet me there.” With that he snapped the device closed and signaled for Spock to follow him. “Chekov, you have the Conn,” he called over his shoulder._
> 
>  
> 
> _The two dodged around rushing officers as they made their way though the red-lit corridors. By the time they reached the doors, Hendorff and his team were approaching from the opposite direction. The security chief shared a nod with them before lifting his phaser and darted into the room, queuing the other red-shirts to follow his lead._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim and Spock had only just moved to file in after when he heard Hendorff call out, “Someone alert Medical! Captain, Commander!” The two shared a look before rushing in._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim wasn’t sure what he expected, but confused personnel and an unconscious body on the transporter pad wasn’t it._
> 
>  
> 
> _Dread pooled in his stomach._

 

“Jim…”

 

He heard Bones, felt his presence appear by his side, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the body on the biobed before him. 

 

“Who is he?” There were a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, but none of them were decipherable. It was like his head was filled with the static of vintage radios.

 

“We don’t know - at least not yet. Chris took a blood sample and ran it through the database; there isn’t a match and he’s far behind on his vaccines.” Bones stepped around him to check the various readings of the man.

 

Jim didn’t look away.

 

He didn’t need to keep looking, but he couldn’t stop himself. His eyes just kept cataloging the tanned skin and muscles not covered by the thin medical gown. And the strong jaw and soft chin. The button nose. The golden hair. 

 

It was like looking in a mirror.

 

“Not yet?”

 

Bones made a noise of confirmation. “While we were starting our initial checkup, Spock made an observation that may give us a starting point of figuring out his identity - he’s looking into it now.”

 

“That’s good to know. What is it?”

 

“His clothes.”

 

“His clothes?” Jim tipped his head in the direction of his CMO’s voice.

 

“Jim,” Bones appeared on his other side. “His clothes were severely dated. They’re the type of thing we’d see at one of those antique stores or a museum.”

 

Jim’s brain seemed to click at that, the static lifting as the memory broke through. 

>  
> 
> _He vaguely heard a lieutenant calling for medical assistance as he bounded up to the body allowing for his eyes to scan the body for…something - anything. It looked like a human male, laying prone and still, with one arm slung up by his head. He wore tall black leather boots, loose blue-green pants, and a cumbersome looking, thick brown coat. Blond hair peeked out from where the large fur-lined collar had flipped up over his head._
> 
>  
> 
> _There wasn’t any movement._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim spared a quick glance at his first officer before crouching down, reaching out, and turning the man over._
> 
>  
> 
> _Revealing_ his  _face._

 

The chirping of his comm pulled Jim from his thoughts and he pulled it out to flick it open. “Kirk here.”

 

“ _Captain_ ,” Spock’s voice filtered through, “ _I_ _have a general time_ _period_ _of when our unexpected guest’s clothes originated_.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“ _The early 20th century.”_

 

Jim’s brow shot up at that and he caught the look of confusion gracing Bones’ face as the man crowded closer to say, “Spock, did you just say the early 20th century? As in the early 1900′s?”

 

“ _Unless you know of other early 20th centuries, Doctor, that is what the tests show.”_

 

Before Bones could retort, Jim griped his upper arm with a warning and scanned over their guest once more. He worked his jaw for a moment before he said, “Spock, what are the chances that this guy is actually from the early 1900′s and not just some weird classical enthusiast?”

 

“ _Considering our past experience_ _s_ _with temporal anomalies and the fact we are not in close proximity to any planets or ships, I -”_

 

_**Beep! Beep! Beep!** _

 

Jim and Bones’ whipped around to where the rapid beeping emanated from the screen above the biobed, the latter darted over to get a better look.

 

“Hold on, Spock, you might want to get up here - something’s happening with our guest.” He clicked the comm shut before he got a reply. “Bones?”

 

Skilled hands danced over the screens. “Jim,” he peered over his shoulder. “He’s waking up.” 

 

As much as he wanted to step closer, Jim did his best to stay out of the way as Bones turned his attention to his patient, called for his head nurse, and began scanning the man with his tricorder. Soon, the guy started to shift on the bed - fingers, arms, legs, head - and let out a pained groan. Before he could observe too much, the sound of footsteps drew his attention, alerting him to the arrival of Chris and Spock - who was right on her heels. 

 

Brown eyes flickered to the biobed where the two medical officers got to work, but they soon focused back on Jim. “Jim,” he said, lifting the Padd he held and switching it on. “I believe you should see this.” 

 

He spared Spock a look, giving the activity behind him another quick glance, but took the offered Padd. His brows furrowed at what was on the screen. 

 

“As I looked into his clothes, I ran the scans Doctor McCoy took of his face as well to see if I could find a match. While the results showed many images of you, it also showed many images of men who looked similar to you throughout the years. This one I believe is a match to our new guest,” Spock explained with a low voice.

 

“- Hey, easy, easy – My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy -”

 

Old and grainy, it looked to be an old photo of five people - four men and one woman - standing among rubble. It must have been scanned a lot later on in it’s lifetime because even when Jim squinted at it, he was barely able to make out it’s details due to it’s worn state. One man appeared to be Scottish, if the kilt was anything to go by, but the others… _god_ , it was too hard to tell by their clothes. The woman held the biggest clue - wearing some sort of armor - but armor wasn’t something he was an expert on. It took several more seconds of staring before the reason Spock brought him this photo became clear. 

 

“When was this taken?” Jim murmured, trying to zoom in on the grainy figure to the left - or right? - of the woman. Same clothes. Same face.

 

“According to the records – November of 1918 in Veld, Belgium. It would fit in well with what else I discovered about his clothes. Before I was interrupted, I was about to add that the clothing was what a high-ranking German officer wore during World War I.”

 

_That was a whole lot of not good._

 

“ - unconscious and had dozens of lacerations and extensive bruising when you showed up. We healed what we found – as well as a lot of your scars, but I’d like to get readings now that you’re awake to make sure nothing was missed in our scans.”

 

“That doesn’t tell me where I am or if I should trust you.” The new, very _American_ , voice drew Jim’s attention back to their guest - who was now propped up and cringing away from his boyfriend. Handing the Padd back to Spock, he stepped forward, gaining the focus of the time traveler.

 

 _God, those were_ his  _eyes._

 

Eyes that widened and flitted over Jim’s body as he took his place next to Bones.

 

_At least he wasn’t the only one unnerved by this turn of events._

 

“I’m James T. Kirk, captain of the Federation’s flagship, the _USS Enterprise_ , the vessel you are currently aboard.” He tipped his head back in the direction of where Spock still stood several feet behind him. “Behind me is my first officer, Commander Spock, and -” he jerked his head to his other side “- as you already know, my Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Leonard McCoy.” Jim propped his hands onto his hips. “Now that you know our names, we’d like to know yours.”

 

_And a lot more._

 

The blond merely stared back at him; his chest, rising and falling in moderated breaths; his face, an open book to the gears turning inside his head.

 

Finally, he broke the silence.

 

“Trevor. My name is Captain Steve Trevor.” Captain Trevor glanced around briefly. “And you still haven’t told me exactly _where_ I am.”

 

Jim almost felt bad for what he was about to tell him.

 

_…to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new part!! Now begins the focus on what happened on the Enterprise. The next few chapters after this will also take place on the Enterprise :)
> 
> Fun Fact!! This was originally the first part of this series, but obviously there were some alterations to the story ;)


	5. Part V

**_A Million Years || Part V_ **

 

 

> “ _I – no – that’s not -”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Possible?” Jim cut him off. As expected, Captain Trevor was hardly accepting of his current situation after they explained where he was – and when, for that matter – but he was handling it better than expected._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _It’s not common, but it isn’t impossible. Certainly isn’t the first time that a lightning storm was somehow involved, either; although, those times involved traveling back, not forward.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Trevor merely nodded and licked his lips, taking in the various medical equipment once more. A moment later something seemed to click in the man’s mind, his eyes flickering briefly with an emotion and his chest began to heave a little faster than it had previously. The increased beeping of the heart monitor didn’t help the matter either and Trevor turned frantic._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Hey, easy,” Bones darted forward and rested a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “It’s just the heart monitor; it keeps track of a patient’s heart rate.” He glanced over his shoulder and sent Jim a look he could decipher by the time their first semester at the Academy had ended._
> 
>  
> 
> _Unfortunately, the only distraction he could think of would either help the situation or make it worse - hopefully it would be the former._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Can you tell us more about yourself? We know you’re from the early 1900’s, but that’s it.” He pulled over a nearby chair and took a seat. Behind him, he heard Spock move forward to stand just a step from his shoulder. “Anything you can tell us would help. You don’t have to go deep right away, just give us the basics.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Trevor nodded and took in a deep breath. “Uh, my name is Steven Rockwell Trevor. I was born in 1882 on the 26 th of August in New York City. My parents were Mary and Joseph Trevor; they both passed on before I was twenty.” He blinked a few times, his breaths starting to even out some. “I, uh, I worked at the docks for most of my life. Lot’s of men did. When there was talk of a new military program involving planes I was one of the first to sign up. Just felt right, you know? Then the war broke out overseas and I was sent over to fight.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _For which side?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _What?” Trevor’s head shot up and he blinked at Spock._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _For which side were you sent over to aid?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _What type of question is that?! I fought with the Allies! I was assigned British Intelligence for crying out loud!” His horror at Spock’s question eased some of the worry Jim had, but he still had plenty of questions._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Sorry, Captain,” Jim cut in, “but you showed up in what we identified as a German officer’s uniform – naturally it made us curious. From what we were aware, America joined the Allies against the Germans, but – since we’re discussing a time before the Eugenics War – we weren’t sure how accurate our information was.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Trevor simmered down at Jim’s words, but his confusion and distress still held. “Eugenics war? You mean there was another war?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Indeed,” Spock replied. “Since the end of World War I, there were in fact -”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _\- A lot of wars,” Jim interjected. The miffed Vulcan sent him a look, but Jim gave him an apologetic smile. “But those are for another time. I take it your mission involved the uniform?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Yeah, I was infiltrating the German ranks. We got word that they had a scientist, a Dr. Maru, who was creating a deadly gas – one that would kill the boys left and right if it was released. They called her Dr. Poison. I got in and was able to steal her notebook before -” he blinked and cleared his throat, shifting on the bed. “Before escaping. Several days later it became apparent that having the notebook didn’t matter; she was still able to create the gas. I, uh,” he swallowed and Jim got the impression they were touching on a potentially sensitive topic. “I – my team and I – we got into one of their bases. Found a plane they loaded down with the stuff and I just…” Trevor trailed off._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim tipped his head in understanding. “You stole the plane.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Trevor gave a brief nod. “Flew it straight up. Pulled out a gun and -” he drew in a breath as the realization fully washed over him._

 

“Jim?” The sleep addled voice emerged from the body laying next to him. “Please don’t tell me that in order to make you sleep I have to sedate you.”

 

Jim huffed, shifting minutely on his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I’m fine, Bones.” He felt the bed shift as his boyfriend turned over to face him.

 

“Bullshit, kid,” he paused with a yawn. “You’re mind hasn’t stopped racing since you saw the guy’s face…I know mine hasn’t.”

 

“Lights twenty percent,” Jim ordered, turning his head to the side. With the slight increase in light he could make out the furrowed brows that he already knew would be gracing the Georgian’s face. “It’s weird isn’t it? He looks just like me, but -”

 

“He isn’t you,” Bones finished, reaching out to drape his arm across Jim’s waist. “Believe me, Jim, I noticed the similarities – Hell, everyone noticed, but right now it’s hard to tell just how different the two of you are; what with how jarring this is on the mind. Seems to have a hell of a lot more decorum than you, though.”

 

Jim raised a brow at the jab and flipped onto his side to better face his partner. “Bones, are you planning on dumping me for the newer model?”

 

The comment earned him a huff from the older man. “Kid, you’re too far under my skin for that to happen.” He shuffled closer so their bodies were barely touching. “Besides, I don’t think he’ll be interested in pursuing anyone for some time. Adjusting to a time jump of nearly 350 years is gonna take a while.”

 

The  _‘If we can’t send him back’_ wasn’t said, but it was implied. It was just another thought that Jim had been worrying about.

 

“What is it? What’s eatin’ you?”

 

Jim glanced up, releasing his lower lip from where he’d been unconsciously biting it. “I don’t think we should bother trying to send him back.”

 

“Jim -”

 

“No, Bones! We can’t send him back! If we do he’ll die!”

 

Bones sighed. “We don’t know that, but he can’t stay here.” Even though he said the words, Jim could tell Bones didn’t have his heart behind them. Shifting to close the distance between them, Jim leaned his forehead against Bones’ own.

 

Trevor’s recount of the last thing he remembered opened up old memories they’d shoved aside and locked up – ones of madmen, sealed chambers, and a body bag that instilled nightmares for months. After Trevor had finished talking, Bones had made a joke about him being a ’ _Self-sacrificing idiot too’,_  but Jim caught the tremor that ran through his hands before he’d occupied them with his tricorder. He’d ended the questioning soon after that moment, under the guise of letting their guest recover for a while, but the second he could he’d drug Bones back to their shared quarters.

 

Well, his quarters, but the amount of Bones’ stuff that was there told another story.

 

They didn’t talk about what had just transpired in Medbay, they didn’t have to – just changed out of their uniforms and curled up on the bed, holding each other until sleep came.

 

“Bones…”

 

“Jim…”

 

_Chirp!_

 

And just like that, the moment was broken as Bones’ comm chirped from his nightstand. He was up within seconds, flipping open the device. “McCoy.”

 

“ _Len, it’s Trevor.”_

 

Jim sat up and shared a look with Bones at the concern lacing his head nurse’s voice. Why she was still even on duty, he didn’t know, but Bones was already out the door before he could pose a question.

 

* * *

_I love you._

 

“Diana!” The strangled cry ripped it’s way from Steve’s throat as he lurched upwards on the bed. He doubled over, gripping his head as he tears finally came, several hours late.

 

_God!_  He was wrong. He was so  _so_  wrong.

 

They weren’t enough.

 

They were  _never_  going to be enough.

 

Steve dropped onto his side, curling up and clawing at the tangled sheets as he wheezed and keened. He vaguely felt a hand place itself on his shoulder, but he was too distressed to react.

 

He didn’t know what to think when he’d first opened his eyes. The minutes following only made the situation even more surreal as a man identical to himself had him spilling his life story like a rookie spy.

 

_2264.55_

 

He was on a  _spaceship_. In the  _middle of space_. In the year  _2264_.

 

_So long._

 

“Chris – Chris, what’s going on?” A familiar  _masculine_  voice cut through his noises.

 

The hand made gentle circles on his shoulder. “He was having a nightmare. It woke him up and – Len, I think it’s all caught up to him.”

 

“Well, why did you call me?”

 

The hand disappeared from his shoulder and he shuddered through a deep breath.

 

“I wasn’t sure if it was something serious!” There was a pause. “Besides, maybe he’ll be more comfortable with another guy than me right now.”

 

Steve didn’t now what else was said, but when the tears finally subsided some time later and he cracked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of a slightly disheveled McCoy sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed. The guy looked exhausted, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose, soft-looking, gray pants, yet he kept his eyes on Steve where he laid.

 

He sniffed, rubbing at his wet cheeks. “Do you often talk about your patients in front of them like that?” His voice came out on the hoarser side.

 

The doctor merely tilted his head at the comment before reaching over to grab and toss a pack of thin white tissues at him. “Here. They’re disposable.”

 

Taking the hint, Steve slowly uncurled and sat up, pulling out one sheet to dab at his face. Apparently these were the future’s handkerchief. “Thanks.”

 

McCoy leaned forward in his chair so he could rest his forearms on his thighs. “Don’t mention it.”

 

Steve tried to ignore how awkward the moment became, just him sniffling and cleaning up his face and McCoy silently watching him, the only other noises being the chirps and beeps of the various medical equipment and the low rumble of the ships engines. Looking around, it was so different than the hospitals of his time – all blindingly bright and absolutely spotless. Before he’d fallen asleep – and after they’d stuck him with roughly a dozen  ~~needles~~ _hyposprays_  – they’d moved him from the private room to the main area. In the hours that had passed only two new patients had joined him in the row of beds, with one more ducking behind a curtain just two away from him. After watching the handful of nurses mill about the room, the doctor drew his attention back to him, asking, “Do you wanna talk about her?”

 

He swallowed and glanced down to pick at the blanket. McCoy didn’t have to say her name. The dream – the memory, was still fresh in his mind. After they’d confirmed where and when he was – not that it’d taken too much to convince him – Steve had rambled out what he could as he tried to process the reality of everything.

 

But he didn’t tell them everything.

 

_What do people do when there isn’t a war._

 

No. Some things just weren’t meant to be shared with others.

 

“I lost everyone I ever cared about – my friends, my family,” Steve deflected, looking up finally to with hazel eyes that shown with…something. “What else is there to talk about?”

 

Besides, talking about her meant thinking about her.

 

He wasn’t sure he really wanted to think about her too soon.

 

“I think it was a little more than just 'caring’ for one of them.”  _Pity_. They shown with  _pity_. “Kid, I know a broken heart when I see one.”

 

_Ah..that made sense._

 

“Her name was Jocelyn,” he continued, “She was the first person to steal my heart and the first to rip it in two. At the time, I despised her for it, but now…” McCoy trailed off, huffing. “Talking about it helped – granted it took a while to open up about it, but it helped. Helped me see that if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.” He smiled then and –  _oh_ , Steve’s heart ached.

 

He  _knew_  that smile.

 

The smile of someone in love.

 

His throat constricted and he tried to swallow again. “Diana…you can’t replace someone like Diana.”  _No_. He started shaking his head. “No, it’s just – you can’t.”

 

“Trevor -”

 

“No!” He ground out, fists clenching in the sheet. “No.”

 

“Sorry.” McCoy held up his hands. “Sorry. I know that this whole thing is difficult – I lost the person I love once as well – they came back, but it is - was difficult confronting what happened. It just takes time.”

 

_I wish we had more time._

 

Steve sucked in a breath. “Please, I – please don’t.”

 

“…Okay,” McCoy relented and a bit of the tension left Steve. “I won’t pressure you, but please keep that in mind. Okay?” Once he saw that Steve acknowledged his words, he stood and peered over the various screens before saying, “As an apology for picking at the wound, I’m gonna take my leave so try to get some rest? Your vitals seem fine and we only need to do a few more vaccines before we let you go.” He turned then to face Steve. “And that will all happen before your meeting with Jim tomorrow.” He paused, waiting for Steve to respond, and when he didn’t, he said, “Right, if you need anything just press that button on the side of the bed and it will alert one of the nurses on duty.”

 

Steve dipped his head in acknowledgment and watched as McCoy bid him goodnight and walked way. Once he was out of sight, Steven flopped back onto the bed and threw an arm over his eyes.

 

The Doc was right – he knew the Doc was right, but to think about the life that was taken from him…

 

The life with Diana that he could have had…

 

That was too much right now.

 

He’d process the others before he opened that box.

 

_…to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I completely made up Steve's history...although I think everyone is since there is not a lot of background on him posted online :p 
> 
> But there are two things I'm positive about him: 1) There is no way he is anything less than 30 years old when he meets Diana. 2) He was apart of the Army (and flying) before America joined the war (America joined in the last year of the war)  
> and most likely joined even before the war even began
> 
> With that said, the next chapter will deal with the meeting :)


	6. Part VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I actually have to say this, but - since there has been issues with this lately - here it goes:
> 
> If you don't like it, don't read it.
> 
> Seriously. Don't comment. Don't do anything – just close the window or back out of it or don't read it period.
> 
> You are not obligated to read any story you don't want to and it's certainly okay if halfway through a story you decide that you don't want to finish it. Seriously, it's okay. I've clicked out of and have lost interest in dozens of fics over the years. 
> 
> We writers are not forcing you to read anything you don't want to.
> 
> But, please, do not start complaining to the author that you don't like something they wrote, that they used a canon fact that you don't agree with, or that it's formatted in a way that you don't like. It's not constructive criticism (that's a whole other thing), it's just plain rude. As for constructive criticism, writers are not bound to do what you suggest. Since it's their story it's up to them to decide whether or not they will take the note into consideration or to completely ignore it.
> 
> So this has been sort of PSA. Please be respectful to artists (both writers and visual ones). The majority of us on here are posting our content because it's something we did that we liked and that we wanted to share. We aren't getting paid to do this. These works are all happening on our own time and energy where love and good feedback keeps us going :)
> 
> With that said, here's Part Six :)

_**A Million Years || Part VI** _

 

Ignoring the near silence of Rec Room 3, Jim stared down at the old photo on his Padd. More specifically, he stared at the female. “Do you think it's her?” He lifted his head to look at Spock sitting next to him at the round table.

 

Spock didn't pick up his head from where he tapped at his own Padd, most likely going over the information he managed to find for Trevor. “It is possible, but without knowing more information we cannot know for sure that it is his ' _Diana_ '.”

 

Jim frowned and turned his attention back to the picture. “I just feel awful that we have to ask him about this, ya know? He was really upset last night when Bones asked him.” After Bones had gotten Chris' comm and booked it to Medical, Jim had followed suit and hid a few biobeds away. His boyfriend wasn't happy to hear that he'd eavesdropped on his conversation with Trevor, but he didn't exactly tell Jim  _not_  to follow him down to the Medbay. Despite his irritation, Bones did elaborate on what transpired.

 

Nightmares and broken hearts were a familiar territory for Jim.

 

“Jim,” Spock replied, “while it certainly is not something that I would like to push either, it is not something that we can ignore in light of recent discoveries.” His placating tone didn't help Jim any.

 

He worried his lip as the other photos they found came to mind.

 

_No they could not._

 

The whooshing of the door that announced the arrival of Bones and Trevor kept him from responding.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, last one.”

 

Steve winced as the hypospray pinched his neck while McCoy administered his last vaccine; this one was supposed to protect him from a disease caused by some  _Andorian_  insect.

 

_Seriously?_

 

Over twenty-four hours ago he'd lived in a time where getting infected with influenza pretty much meant a close call with death and now it was one of the many diseases that had essentially been eradicated over the centuries. Now the problem diseases came from planets that he didn't even know existed.

 

And,  _boy_ , that was something that was going to take time adjusting too.

 

At the thought, Steve's eyes slid over to where a two, distinctly  _non_ -human crewmembers sat being treated due to being involved in a small lab explosion.

 

“I'd say you'll get used to it,” McCoy commented and Steve turned his head to watch the doctor come to stand and lean back against the biobed next to him. “But you might not have to if we can send you back.” He didn't look at him when he spoke, just watched the various nurses interact with their patients, so Steve took the opportunity to observe the doctor.

 

Since waking up, Steve had had the chance to gather his wits and find his footing, his spy training snapping back into place as he took in his surroundings. He'd be lying if he said that it wasn't all mind-boggling, but he could adapt to this - he was  _trained_  to adapt to new situations.

 

It was just the thought of processing the time - the 346 years - that he skipped over that would cause problems.

 

He'd assumed that that was the only option. Adapt and process.

 

“Can you do it? Send me back?” Steve questioned. The tiny twitch that appeared in the doctor's shoulders had him adding on a third question. “Will you?”

 

_Will you send a man back to his death?_

 

McCoy was silent for several heartbeats before he replied. “I don't know.” He glanced down before finally turning to face Steve. There was something in his expression that had Steve questioning just what it was that he didn't know about.

 

Unfortunately, McCoy ushered him off the bed and out of the Medbay before he could pose an inquiry. From then on curiosity was too much and he trailed along by McCoy – through corridors and up  _turbolifts_  - in pure, unadulterated wonder as his mind was overtaken by what he was seeing.

 

It was all so bright and clean! Everything seemed to glisten and shine under the lights as they walked. Steve had peppered the doctor with various questions while he was getting his shots and he honestly didn't believe McCoy when he mentioned the ship was large enough to comfortably house over a thousand crewmen.

 

Several of which he caught watching him with weird looks as they passed. McCoy must have noticed them too because he huffed and shook his head. “We sent out a ship-wide message briefly explaining the situation, telling them not to stare, and what do they do? They stare,” he grumbled.

 

It was...unsettling for him. As a spy he was used to blending in, not being the center of attention. Steve had been attempting to tell himself that it was simply due to being dressed in all black and not in one of their bright uniforms, but he a gut feeling that that wasn't the reason. “Little weird for them to see two Captains around then?”

 

The doctor shrugged. “It's just weird for them to see two Captains that both look the same  _and_  behave normally – well, normally as in not psychotically.”

 

 _Was he saying that this situation has happened before?_  “Wait, what happened before?”

 

“It's complicated.”

 

He dropped the topic, but Steve added it to the things to look into while he was here. He certainly wasn't going to let that story stay shoved away for too long.

 

All too soon a door was sliding open and he was following McCoy inside.

 

For a Recreation Room, it was far simpler than what he was expecting. Okay, he technically wasn't sure what he was expecting in the first place, but this wasn't quite it. The sleekness and screens, sure. The scattered groupings of tables, chairs, and sofas should have been figured on. The bar and rows of alcohol and glasses were a nice surprise.

 

The endless, star speckled darkness beyond the three windows _???_

 

Well, it took a lot of willpower for Steve to pull his attention away from that and focus on where Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were seated. After McCoy slid into the chair next to Kirk, he was left with the final seat between him and Spock.

 

“Can I just be the first to say that this will never be  _not_  weird?”

 

Sitting face to face with Kirk – now with a clear, calm mind – the looks the crew had given him were really put in perspective. At a first glance, they really could be mistaken as the same person, but closer up one could see the differences. Steve lacked the small scar just below Kirk's lip, but he was missing the faded line on his hairline that Steve had gotten from falling out of a tree.

 

They were small differences, but it proved something.

 

Kirk's lip twitched at the statement. “Trust me, it's about to get a whole lot weirder, but first – How are you holding up?”

 

Steve spared another glance at the stars beyond the ship's windows, Kirk's concern tugging at his heart. Such an open concern wasn’t exactly something he was used to having directed solely at himself. Etta and the others, yes, but not by strangers. He refocused on Kirk with a shrug. “Haven't really had the time to think about it.”

 

His response earned him a considering look. “Touché,” Kirk said. “Then we'll try to get through this as quickly as we can so you can get some time to rest. Besides, this probably won't be our only meeting either.” His blue eyes flickered over to the doctor. “Bones -”  _Bones?_  “- made us promise to go easy on you since he just cleared you, but I can't promise that things won't be a tad difficult to discuss.”

 

With that, he slid across the Padd and tapped it.

 

The air left Steve's lungs and he gingerly picked up the device. “How did you get this?” His hand hovered over the screen, too afraid to touch it.

 

“You remember this being taken?”

 

 

> _The air reeked of gunpowder, it probably would for days, and dust still hung in the air as the man ordered the five of them to stand just so._

 

It was hard to see the details now, but that didn't matter.

 

“Yes,” he breathed.

 

 

> _A gust of wind had Diana's hair tickling his face. The boys laughed when he sneezed, but Diana just smiled like it was the most adorable thing._

 

“It was only taken days ago.”

 

_No. It was taken 346 years ago._

 

Steve cleared his throat looking up at the other Captain. “How did you find this?”

 

Kirk tipped his head to the side. “It wasn't me,” he said.

 

“When you appeared on the ship,” Steve looked over to Commander Spock. McCoy had told him about the half- _Vulcan_  First Officer - smartest person on the ship, but he had a tendency to sound...detached. He hadn't gotten the chance earlier to really observe him besides noticing the slanted brows and pointed ears. Being able to look into his eyes had Steve figuring that there was more to the Vulcan than what people expected. “You appeared on our transporter pad. When it was realized that you were unconscious, we had you taken to the Medical Bay for treatment. It was there that scans were taken of your face and your clothing was collected. We ran the scans that were collected through our databases to see if we could identify you. That was how we knew about the officer's uniform and the war.”

 

He vaguely remembered being questioned about what side he fought for shortly after he woke up. “So your -” he searched for the word “- computers just told you what you needed to know?”

 

“In a way, yes. The uniform assisted us in dating the images yielded from the facial scan.”

 

Steve's brows knitted together at that, but Spock's response was to slid over another Padd. Steve had seen everyone else just swiping their finger across the surfaces so he cautiously mimicked the action. His eyes widened as he was greeted to row upon row of photos featuring his face...or not?

 

“Holy shit.”

 

A lot of them he figured to be Kirk; they looked newer and most of them featured McCoy as well – another detail he filed away. The rest of the faces escaped him. They were him, but...not.

 

“It is not uncommon to find dopplegangers throughout history – alike in looks, but not the same,” Spock informed him. “You and the Captain are such an example. I myself have had several look-alikes throughout history, one of which was a famous actor while another, an author.”

 

“Wait, are you telling me that you searched your own face, Spock?” McCoy questioned. When Steve glanced over it was blatantly clear that the man was overly pleased to know that bit of info.

 

Spock, however, was not.

 

“ _Guys_...” Based on the tired manner in which Kirk scolded them and the rolled eyes, this wasn't a new thing for the two men.

 

 _Maybe he should get them back on track?_ “So reincarnation?” He's pretty sure that he'd heard Sammy and Chief talk about different cultures that believed in that.

 

“Maybe some would say so, but seeing as some existed as the same time as others I would say no. Our genes simply have a way of assembling themselves in a manner that makes us appear similar to others.” Spock picked up another Padd and set it down on top of the one displaying his own doppelgangers, but he did not activate it. “It also leads us to another point of interest.” He gestured to the photo taken at Veld. “We were hoping that you would be willing to tell us more about this photo.”

 

Steve glanced down at the screen and ran a hand through his hair. “What, your computers couldn't tell you about it?” The comment was childish, but he wasn't in the mood for picking at the fresh wound. Then again it wasn't like he had a choice.

 

“This photo has no attached history,” Kirk answered, gently. It seemed like he had an idea of the cracks he was treading over. “Do you remember when we mentioned the Eugenics War?”

 

Glancing up, Steve nodded his head. “Yeah. You said something about not knowing how accurate information was.”

 

“Yeah,” Kirk confirmed. “It's documented that the Eugenics War happened during the 1990's, but there are a lot of academics that think it may have happened later. Either way, the focus of the war is commonly agreed on – genetic engineering. An obsession happened, one that craved the creation of the perfect human being. Ones that were stronger, more intelligent,  _better_  -” he all but spat the word out “- than the average human.”

 

Steve swallowed, his throat suddenly a lot more dry than what it had been.

 

“In a way they succeeded, but at a great cost. The subjects that survived were known as  _Augments_  and they had nearly everything that the scientists wanted for a perfect human, but they – for lack of a better term – were dicks. It took some time, but eventually the Augments were overthrown. But not before an estimated 30 million were killed.”

 

Steve's jaw dropped open. “ _30 million?_ ”  _So many lives..._

 

Kirk nodded grimly. “And that's not all. A lot of information was destroyed as well. Everything we know about the time during and before the Eugenics War was carefully saved and recorded by people alive during that time, but dating certain things has been an issue. Events were either not ever dated or dates were guessed at.”

 

McCoy finally chimed in, “You could be a great asset in understanding the past – or some of it.”

 

Kirk who had been watching the doctor, faced Steve again and continued, “Which leads us back to the topic of the photo...”

 

Steve took in an even breath, peering back down at the picture. Diana was front and center, just like she should be, while he and the others flanked her.

 

“It was taken in Veld, Belgium on the 9th of November, 1918. My team and I had made our way to the front lines to see what we could do to help.”

 

Well, to see what Diana could do to help, not that any of them had believed her at the time.

 

“The village had been occupied by the Germans for roughly a year and none of our attempts to oust them worked.” Steve huffed out a laugh. “To be frank, neither side gained any ground that year. It was the stand-still of all stand-stills.”

 

 

> _Even from this distance, Steve could hear the sound of the bullets ricocheting off of Diana's shield as she held her ground against the opposing force._

 

“By some miracle we were finally able to reclaim it for the residents who'd been kicked out. This was the their way of thanking us.” They were all supposed to get copies. He guessed that this one would have to be his.

 

“You helped them,” McCoy commented and Steve's mouth twisted.

 

 

> “ _Diana!” The thick yellow smoke hovered mere feet from him, preventing anyone from going or seeing in._
> 
>  
> 
> _She was in there._

 

“Not enough. They gassed the town the next day. No one survived.”

 

“Jesus.” Steve picked his head up and looked at the doctor rubbing at his face.

 

“It was war, Doc,” he sighed, tipping the Padd back for a moment to stare down at the table. “You can't save everybody.”

 

 

> _Diana stared back at him in horror as if she couldn't believe what he just told her, but she had to know._

 

Steve shook his head to clear the memory. “After that we broke into one of the German's facilities; I blew up a plane full of deadly gas...now I'm here.” He set the Padd down in the center of the table. “That's Sameer, he was our con-man; Chief, our smuggler; Charlie, our marksman.” With each one he pointed out the pain in his chest grew. He'd planned to process them tonight, but questions broke through the dam he'd built.

 

_What happened to them?_

 

_Did Sammy ever get his chance to preform?_

 

_Did Chief ever go home?_

 

_Did Charlie ever find peace from his ghosts?_

 

_And Etta. What about Etta?_

 

“And the woman?” Spock's voice drifted thought his thoughts and Steve swallowed the lump that had begun to form in his throat.

 

“Diana Prince. She was -”

 

_\- my secretary._

 

“- apart of an experimental program devised by the higher-ups. They wanted to see if they could bring women to the front lines to fight. The, uh, the armor was their way of making her more intimidating.”

 

They couldn't know what she was...what she could do. He had a hunch...he just didn't know if he wanted it confirmed.

 

A hand moving in his peripheral had him glancing over in time to see Spock activating the third Padd before him.

 

The Padd Steve held clattered to the table as he stared at the new Padd.  

 

He drew in a ragged breath and one of his hands covered his mouth as picture after picture of Diana was displayed on the screen. Each one more and more modern than the one before.

 

_...to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update! I had some of it written and then I wasn’t sure if it was the direction I should take with the fic and then I just got overwhelmed with working on different things… But it’s finally up! :D


	7. Part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, feeeeeeels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what’s back!!!!!! Sorry for the long wait! Sooooo many things happened that resulted in this chapter not happening until now - McKirk-tober, writer’s block, new job… I didn’t even have this planned until the 10th of this month and I was like “omg what if I updated for Valentine’s Day??!!?!?” 
> 
> After that the idea for this chapter came pretty easily and I was able to crank this baby out and edit it in three days :D
> 
> With that said, I’m gonna go over a bit about what to expect from this update. 
> 
> First of all, this is a bridge/filler chapter. I needed something to get us from on the ship to Yorktown and one bit closer to the reunion we are desperately waiting for ♥
> 
> Finally, this installment is very McKirk centric and goes into how Jim is being affected by this because it’s sort of hard to see your “twin” go through this and not be affected emotionally
> 
> Anyways, guys, I’m really excited about this and I hope you enjoy this :D

**_A Million Years || Part VII_ **

 

Not a word was spoken when Jim walked into his bedroom and dropped backwards onto the bed, his hands coming up to cover his face. Neither when the bed shifted and Bones laid down beside him, their arms barely touching, did he make a sound. The blanket of silence stayed unruffled over them as they each processed the long meeting they just came from.

 

“Well that was…”

 

“Yup…” Jim answered.

 

>   _A knot formed in Jim’s belly as he watched Steve take his first cautious swipe at the Padd. It didn’t leave as the spy took more, revealing one picture after another, each one more dated than the one before it._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Steve,” he said, gingerly. Than man in question didn’t look up, but he did pause his actions. Jim didn’t need to be a telepath to know what was going on in his head as he stared down at the screen._
> 
>  
> 
> _His omission was no longer obsolete in light of the situation and Steve needed to make a decision._
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim just hoped it was the one they wanted him to make._
> 
>  
> 
> _The seconds crept by until, finally, Steve spoke. “She saved my life.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Although Jim was relieved that Steve was speaking, he didn’t dare do anything to cause him to clam up. Thankfully, Bones and Spock must have felt the same way for they kept quiet as well and the three allowed their silence to encourage Steve to continue._
> 
>  
> 
> _And he did._
> 
>  
> 
> _And Jim soon found himself enraptured by the tale of how Steve Trevor became the first man to step foot on Themyscira, how he met a race of remarkable warrior women, and - most importantly - how he brought one back with him._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Diana… She was… She was everything,” Steve said, gazing down at the photos, his adoration unhidden. “She was everything - everything we needed. She was the one that turned the tide of the war. And - And the things that she could do!” He looked up then, his eyes sparkling at his recollections. “She just…stepped into No Man’s Land and charged their trench. I watched her take out a machine gun as it was firing on us with her shield and throw an honest-to-god tank before flying up and smashing a bell tower to smithereens.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Wait…what?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim’s brows raised on their own accord, but it was Bones who spoke what was on his mind. “Wait, she threw a tank and smashed a bell tower on her own?” As he spoke his eyes flickered over and met Jim’s own._
> 
>  
> 
> _This wasn’t good._
> 
>  
> 
> _“I know what you’re thinking,” Steve interjected, distraught, drawing their focus back on him. “She wasn’t an Aug…” he trailed off, screwing up his face as he tried to remember the term._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Augment,” Spock supplied before pursing his lips and tilting his head ever so slightly._
> 
>  
> 
> _He was wary as well._
> 
>  
> 
> _Steve snapped his fingers and pointed in confirmation. “Augment, yes! She wasn’t made to be like that; Diana was born stronger than the average person. All of the Amazons were like that, actually. They were made by the Gods to be stronger than and live longer than mankind. Her mother, Queen Hippolyta, was over a thousand years old. That was the average age for all of the women on that island.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim nodded slowly. Gods…right. Okay, not the strangest explanation he’d heard, but he wasn’t about to say that. “So that’s why she’s lived this long.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Yeah…yeah I guess it is.” He had dropped his eyes as he spoke, his tone softening. It made Jim swallow down a sudden lump in his throat and shift in his seat, moving his leg enough to bump Bones’ knee with his own. Steve glanced up then and saw Jim’s look. “Knowing that she could and seeing proof that she’s lived this long is just…”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“A lot?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Yeah.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _How can one word carry so much weight?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Jim knew that this was going to be tough meeting, but he didn’t think that he would be affected this much. That he would have this much churning happening in his_ _stomach or have this difficult of a time breathing with the invisible rope tied around his ribs._
> 
>  
> 
> _Or maybe he should have, seeing as this man was his ‘twin’._
> 
>  
> 
> _“I’m glad she’s lived this long,” Steve added, a sad smile gracing his face. “The world’s a better place if she’s in it.” The sad smile, though, soon vanished, replaced by wide, unguarded eyes. “What has she been doing all these years?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Having expected this question, Jim tapped his own Padd, searching for the line of text that he had typed up. “From what we’ve found, she’s been a historian at the Louvre in Paris since 2194.87,” he answered._
> 
>  
> 
> _“What about before? How did no one notice that she wasn’t aging?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _There was something in Steve’s voice. Something that made the rope tighten just a bit more. Jim bumped Bones’ knee once more._
> 
>  
> 
> _He didn’t miss as Bones’ eyes flickered briefly to his before he shrugged at Steve’s questions. “Thanks to modern medicine, the human life span has increased to just over a century. Not to mention that there’re many different races who’s average lifespan is upwards of a century as well. Hell -” he gestured across the table at Spock “- Vulcan’s can live up to around two-hundred years. Her coworkers probably just thought she had good genes or had a Vulcan ancestor or something along those lines.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“And as for before,” Jim picked up, shoving aside his unease. “She was probably just keeping a low profile. Know the right people and you can easily live off the grid. As for the photos, it looks like a lot of these pictures are just ones that she was caught in the background of. The only reason that we got these was because Spock used facial recognition to search for them. She’s probably in hundreds more, but since her face wasn’t captured we weren’t shown them.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Steve just shook his head at that, glancing back down._
> 
>  
> 
> _“It’s just - It’s been so long… Has she forgotten me?”_

 

“It’s been 346 years, Bones.” Jim starred up at the ceiling, listening to the soft sound of his boyfriend’s breaths beside him, calm and even. Meanwhile, his thoughts whirled inside of him. “We are bringing a man to see the woman he loved 346 years ago; a woman who has lived her own life without him for 346 years.” He took in a shallow breath before flipping on his side, resting his hand above Bones’ heart, and meeting the pair of hazel eyes that he loved so dearly. “What if she moved on?”

 

Bones’ jaw clenched minutely, giving Jim all the answer he needed despite it being the one he didn’t want.

 

“Goddamn it,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

They just gave this man hope in seeing his love and they more than likely just signed his broken heart as well.

 

A pressure on his hand had Jim opening his eyes once more. “Hey,” Bones softly rumbled as he lightly clasped Jim’s hand with his own. “We don’t know that for sure.”

 

Jim gave a weary sigh. “I know, but -”

 

“But it’s possible, I know,” Bones finished. He was silent a moment, opting just to peer back at Jim as he thought over his words. The action sent that lump lodged in his chest careening up into his throat. “Three-hundred forty-six years is a long time,” he said, the small smile that then formed just sent the lump in Jim a bit farther up. “But love is strange and if there’s one thing I’ve come to believe it’s that there’s no such thing as a no-win scenario and I gotta believe that this is one of those.”

 

With that, it was as if the whole world just clicked into place and in a blink Jim found himself moving to lay his body on top of the older man as the benign lump finally took over and his racing thoughts finally decided to find a focus.

 

>   _“There’s a starbase nearby called Yorktown that’s home to a mix of Starfleet personnel and civilians. It’s a prime place out here for ships to stop at for a resupply or just to have a short break,” Jim said, prompting Steve to give him an odd look. He wasn’t sure what this Yorktown had to do with him or Diana; why it was suddenly brought up? Jim must have thought it was important, though, because he kept talking despite having obvious issues getting the words out. “Anyways, there’s a branch of the Academy there and,” he paused, rubbing at his eyes. “Diana’s been scheduled to be there soon.”_

 

“Oh my God,” Steve whispered into his palms as he paced the room he’d been put up in.

 

He was going to see Diana.

 

Of all of the things he expected to come out of this meeting, the chance to see his saving grace again was not it.

 

After they’d fished out what he hadn’t been telling them, they’d dropped the news that had his world screeching to a halt.

 

Steve had resigned himself to never again seeing the people he cared about and now he was about to see the one person who’d had perhaps the largest impact?

 

One who’s lived all this time without him?

 

With a groan, Steve collapsed down onto the edge of the bed, the what if’s circling in his head.

 

Because what if she had forgotten him?

 

What if she didn’t?

 

What if she still cared about him?

 

What if, when he meets her, he finds out that she never cared about him in the way that he cared about her?

 

What if she moved on?

 

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Steve folded his hands before his face and stared across the room.

 

What then?

 

Because the last time he saw her…

 

>   _“On the tarmac - I - The plane was -,” Steve cut himself off with a swallow before taking several deep breaths. “I told her that I wished that we had had more time. And - And I told her I loved her.”_

 

“I love you,” he whispered, gazing down at the man underneath him. There was a hint of curiosity on Bones’ face, but he stayed quiet and simply moved his hands to cradle Jim’s waist. “I love you,” Jim repeated, louder, more earnest as the words began to spill from his lips. “Bones - Leonard, I love you and - and they were seperated for 346 years. I - I don’t know if I could be separated from you for one year let alone 346.” The thought alone made his chest ache.

 

“You’d probably die before the year ended without me.” Bones’ lips twitched in amusement as he said it, but he - they both sobered at the realization of how true that was.

 

“That’s what I mean, Bones,” Jim said. Carefully maneuvering his body, Jim planted his forearms on the bed on either side of Bones’ head and brought their faces closer together, their noses almost touching. “Time is so so fucking weird, Bones, and no one knows what the hell is going on and I - just -”

 

He grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration and dropping his forehead to rest their foreheads together as the words got caught up in his throat.

 

“Take your time, Darlin’,” Bones eased, his breath ghosting over his lips. Jim felt a hand move to run lightly along his spine.

 

With a soft, shuttering laugh, Jim brushed a light kiss to Bones’ nose before moving to trail kisses along his cheekbone and down next to his ear. “You’re too good for me, Bones,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to the shell of Bones’ ear. “And call me selfish or - or pragmatic or pathetic, but I want to make the most of whatever time we have together.”

 

He paused then, taking a measured breath, grabbing hold of the words before the slipped away once more.

 

“Bones,”Jim said, lifting his head to meet Bones’ eyes once more. Eyes that glistened with understanding and allowed Jim that final boost of confidence that he needed. “Marry me.”

 

_…to be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post A/N: ;)
> 
> Also in preparing for this I was rereading what I’d written and noticed a few errors that slipped past me in editing :( I won’t bother with changing them because I don’t really feel like it, but one that I will change is the time gap. I put down 364 years when it should have been 346. So that will be changed effective immediately

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)
> 
> Oh, and you can also find me on [tumblr](http://goingknowherewastaken.tumblr.com/)! I post a lot for Star Trek, but Wonder Woman stuff has been included there as well. This is also where my works get posted first and a few there are still tumblr exclusive at the moment :p


End file.
